Flames that Burn
by Myem04
Summary: Anger and desire can become flames that eat away at self-control. Can he douse the fire inside him or will it burn all his restraint to ashes? Non-massacre, Darker themed lemon Oneshot
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this to get it out of my head and return to my other story. I'm writing it as a one shot but it has potential to become more…when I have time. Just let me know what you all think. This is a darker lemony tale that might be a slight trigger for some people, so please take that in mind. I just need more practice writing lemons, cause boy are they hard to get down on paper.

Quick Note: I don't own Naruto, anime or manga. I just make use of the great characters, moving and molding them to my whim. I also deviate from canon, because I can. This is a non-massacre fiction.

Flames that Burn

He was angry, no, more than that. He was furious. The rage was clawing in chest like a ravenous beast, threatening to tear its way out from behind the calm, collected veneer of self-control that he was known for.

He questioned how he got where he was. Not just how he ended up here, seated in a smoky, very loud, bar in a rundown village on the edge of Sound, but how he found himself so close to the edge of losing his reason to the call of his darker side.

He should have known this morning, when he had trouble sitting still during the lecture about clan pride from his father. Normally, his body wouldn't have been so restless. He never squirmed before, but during that early meeting, it took all of his composure not to slam out of his father's office in disgust.

Then he had cut himself during his morning practice on his own kunai. He had stood, shocked and fascinated at the sight of his own blood upon the injured finger. How many S-ranked missions had he completed without ever being bloodied? Maybe it was the sight of proof that his focus was slipping that woke the beast inside him.

It was standing in the middle of that training field that he received the summons from the Hokage. The messenger bird had to jump around for quite a bit before he even noticed it. Maybe a mission was just what he needed to calm his growing unrest and work out the aggressive feeling that had made a home in his chest.

He returned to his family's house and in the solitude of his own room, changed into the black uniform and mask that marked him as an elite ninja. Most shinobi viewed donning these clothes as a mark of excellence, but he just saw it as cloth that didn't stain as easily when splattered with enemy blood. Once he had put on all of his equipment, he covered his handsome features with the cold, emotionless mask of the Crow and hurried out onto the rooftops of his village, heading in the direction of the Hokage Tower.

There was already another shinobi waiting when he arrived. His training kept him from outwardly stiffening at the sight of the kunoichi standing at attention in front of the Hokage's desk. Her posture gave away her worry, even if her face showed nothing but determination. Her beautiful features were calm and placid as the surface of a mountain lake. Her body, however was tight and rigid, betraying an inner struggle.

His task was to accompany the Hokage's apprentice on a seduction mission of a rouge ninja carrying stolen Leaf secrets. It was insultingly simple, but he realized immediately why it had to be him to go. Her teammates, including his own little brother, would have never agreed to let her take on such a dirty task. His growing frustration seemed to flare into a burning flame around his heart. Why did he feel this way? It's not like she was his to protect. Right?

The fingers holding the parchment with mission details written in neat script, tightened, threatening to crumple to paper. His eyes tried to read through the words quickly so he could get rid of the offensive scroll in all haste. It was a testament to his level of self-control that he was able to roll the parchment without damage and store it away, never once showing any sign of his turbulent emotions.

They were to meet at the front gates in an hour, giving her time to collect the supplies she needed. He needed nothing, so went straight to the meeting place, determined to meditate until she got there. The reflective state did little to calm him, so when the soft inquiry by her about his readiness to leave came, he had not received any relief from his current state.

During their travel, she made no attempt to speak to him. Maybe she somehow knew of his unsettled state of mind or maybe she was dealing with her own demons, he was not sure, but he was grateful in a small way for the silence. The burn of muscles as he leapt through the trees eased the burn of his heart, for a while at least, and rhythm of the familiar motion lulled the beast within to calm.

In no time at all, they had reached the outskirts of the dismal little village. Its buildings all looked like they were on the verge of collapse, the citizens even more so. The two shinobi paused in the shadows of a dark alley for her to throw a tattered yukata over her black uniform. He followed her, sticking to the darkened places along the path, as she entered a seedy inn. Ten minutes past before she appeared in an upper window, cracking it slightly and giving him the sign he could enter.

She had her back to him when he climbed into the dingy hotel room. Neither of them spoke, words were unnecessary. They were ninja with a job to do so what was there to talk about. She picked up her bag from where she had dropped it and went into the bathroom, closing the door with a quiet click. He laid down on the bed, situated in the middle of the room, and closed his eyes, blotting out the reality of the situation he had found himself in.

A long hour passed before she emerged from the bathroom. Gone was the strong kunoichi and in her place was a goddess of sin. Her dress was a short, slinky scrap of cloth, colored the deepest, darkest blue. Her eyes were painted in a similar smoky colors, her lips were the most sinful red. All of this, along with the pale white of her skin, made mockery of the proud colors of his clan and he wondered if she had done that on purpose. It was so like her to throw his pride in his face in such a way.

He rose to his feet from the bed and stalked across the room until he was inches from her. His eyes flared red with his bloodline limit and roamed her body slowly, memorizing every inch. A growl escaped his throat and she raised her chin in response, her gaze never wavering from his face. She was taunting him and his displeasure. She held his glare for several minutes of time, measured only by the pounding of their hearts. Finally, her eyes shifted away to look past him towards the door, her mind set on her next course of action. The clicking of her stiletto heels marked her movement as she crossed the room and exited the room. He couldn't bring himself to watch her leave. He didn't trust himself not to stop her.

The flames in his heart threatened to consume him. His rage clawed at his throat, but outwardly, he didn't move a muscle. The beast inside him cried out at his inaction.

Reason finally crept in to remind him that he had a job to do. He turned swiftly and exited out the window he had come in through. Once he was planted firmly on the dusty roadway, he cast a henge to disguise his appearance and made his way to the bar further down from the street. He entered the questionable establishment and found an empty table with a direct view of the bar where she sat perched high on a stool. The ninja gave a terse order to the waitress that came to the table without sparing her even a glance, refusing to take his eyes off the object of his obsession for even a moment.

So, here he was, seated in a dark, seedy bar, surrounded by the noises of drunken revelries, and consumed with fury.

The target had arrived and, as expected, the rogue ninja had made his way to the pink-haired goddess. She just had to smile up at the man and flutter her long lashes to ensnare him. A twinkling laugh, a gentle run of her hand up his arm, a firm grasp of the thigh just above the knee, and the missing nin would do anything or go anywhere, so blinded was he by desire.

Her protector was forced to watch every torturous touch of her hand on the target. He could only down drink after drink in a vain attempt to lessen the flames of his rage. The beast inside him was maddened with helplessness. Cracks began to form in shell around his emotions and the ninja could no longer completely contain his turbulent chakra. It began to leak out in waves, causing the patrons around him to squirm in discomfort and look around wearily, in search of the cause of this feeling of danger.

The target stood with a smug, excited smile on his face and took the beauty's hand in his own. He led her to a rickety set of stairs at the back of the bar, intent on getting his prize up to the room he had procured from the barkeeper. She ducked her head down in a shy gesture, an unsure look on her face. The rogue ninja's chakra flared up with desire at the display of innocence and placed a firm hand on the small of her back, hurrying her along with a new found impatience.

The sight of the door closing and hiding her from his intense gaze was the final straw. The ninja slammed both fist down on the surface of the table. He rose to his feet with such force, the chair he had been seated in flew back and crashed into the wall behind him. The fractured veneer that hid his inner self exploded into tiny fragments. His need for her burned hotter than even his most power jutsu. His chakra blew out in a circle around him, knocking people to the ground and out of his way. The ninja leapt forward, stepping lightly on table tops, and made his way quickly in the direction she had disappeared in. He cleared the stairs without even touching them, and landed in front of the closed door.

He didn't hesitate to kick open the door and enter. He was too far gone in the flames of his rage and desire to care about anything. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before him.

The target was lying flat on his back on a bed of sleazy, black satin sheets. The man's body was twisting and contorting, his face screwed up tight with his pleasure. Whimpering and mewling noises came from his mouth as he reviled in the illusion the kunoichi had created for him. The man was obviously deep in the throes of a genjutsu.

The pink-haired shinobi had frozen in the act of removing the stolen scrolls from the rogue ninja's pants pocket. Her surprised eyes focused on the enraged ninja who had just busted into the room.

He closed the door behind him with just a little less force than he had opened it with, dropping the henge as he did so. He was not worried about the patrons down below interrupting, they would know better than to get involved in ninja business and his actions in main room had left no doubt that is what he was.

The grunts and groans of the man on the bed made jealousy burn in his chest. He wanted no man to have the pleasure of touching her, not even in a dream. He grabbed a blade from its hiding place on his vest and, with a quick flick of his wrist, sent the kunai into the missing nin's brain, quieting the annoying noises for good.

The kunoichi gasped in surprise at his blood-thirsty action, looking down at the blade embedded in her target's eye socket. The shinobi moved closer to her and grabbed ahold of the messy bun of pink-hair twisted up on the top of her head. He used his grasp on her to pull her away and with his free arm knocked the dead body off the bed and onto the floor. Using his firm grip on her, he maneuvered the stunned kunoichi around and forced her to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hand were clenched around his forearm, in an attempt to loosen the painful vise on her hair, but he was not ready to give up control of her. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him. He brought his free hand to rest upon her cheek and gazed intently into her eyes.

"Show me." Those were the first words he had spoken to her since the start of this mission. Her expression showed only confusion at his demand. Despite the flames burning inside of him, he found a tiny bit of compassion. Just this once he would clarify his order.

"Show me the pleasure you were giving that man within your genjutsu," he repeated. Her glittering eyes widen at his words and her head shook back and forth to deny him. He would not allow her to disobey.

He retrieved the stolen papers clenched in her fist and tucked them safely away. He then leaned forward, bringing his face inches from her own. His eyes bleed red with his bloodline limit and the design within them twirled and danced as he reached into her mind, ridding her of all inhibitions. Once she was free of the guilt, worry and fears brought on by feelings of duty and loyalty better left at home, desire flamed bright in her eyes and he could tell she accepted his passion for her.

She slide from her perch on the edge of the bed and fell to her knees in front of him. Her hands made quick work of the ties on his pants and lowered them, exposing his erection. She glanced up at his face briefly, seeking permission to continue. He showed his approval by loosening the grip on her hair, caressing the delicate pink strands instead. He ran his other hand down the side of her graceful neck before curling his fingers around it to tug her forward slightly.

She reached out with her hand and took hold of him, her grip firm and sure. His breath hitched and passion caused the muscles in his abdomen to tighten in anticipation. She stroked his length up and down, delighting in the feel of soft, silky skin stretched taunt over the hard flesh underneath. She wet her lips and closed the distance between them. Her tongue made a long leisurely trail from the root to the tip, encircling the sensitive end.

Encouraged by the sounds of his quickening breaths, she took the weeping tip into her mouth, slowly moving further down. He groaned out loud at the immense pleasure of her actions. As she took more of him into her mouth, her tongue massaged the sides.

Once she had taken as much of him as she could, she began to withdrawal, sucking in as she left. She plunged back down again, this time lightly grazing her teeth along his shaft. He hissed in desire, causing the lips around him to curl at the edges in smile. She increased the speed of her ministrations.

He threw back his head and moaned loudly. He wasn't going to last much longer if he allowed her to continue, so with great willpower, he pulled away from her. The small cry of her outrage made him chuckle. He reached under her arms and pulled her abruptly to her feet. He crushed his mouth to hers, demanding entry into the warmth that had been so thoroughly pleasuring him moments before. As their tongues danced together in passion, he caught the taste of himself in her and his desire flamed to even greater heights.

His fingers grasped on the straps of the blue dress, and with a quick, impatient motion, yanked them off her shoulders. The dress slide down her body to pool on the floor around her feet. He broke their kiss to gaze upon the perfection of her nude body. With near reverence, his hands cupped and kneaded her full breasts. His fingers pinched her rosy nipples, drawing a low moan from her. He kissed her hard again to catch the noise in his mouth, not willing to share the sound of her passion with the universe. Her hands slide up his firmly muscled chest, until they were buried in the silky strands of his hair.

His restraint gave way and he pushed her roughly down onto the bed. She let out a cry of surprise at his action and pushed herself up on slender arms. He grabbed a hold of each of legs and spread them wide, putting her most secret place on display before him. He crouched down over her, running his lips along her inner thigh. She laid down on the bed and arched her back, lifting her hips in order to bring her need closer to his heat. A hand on her waist restrained her anxious movement. His nose hovered above her wet, glistening core, inhaling her fragrant scent. The inner beast within him purred with excitement.

Suddenly, he plunged his mouth down to taste her. She cried out with the intensity of the feeling, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Her exclamations spurred him on and he used a finger to enter her, his mouth sucking and biting on the bundle of nerves. Her enthusiastic shouts caused his shaft to twitch in anticipation. His long digit was pumping more furiously and another joined it. Her tight heat began to stretch with his vigorous attention. Her natural fluids dripped down his hand and coated his tongue. She was almost ready.

He righted himself, his head thrown back. His gasp for breath directed at the ceiling above. His knees planted firmly on the bed between her wide spread legs. He shifted his gaze to her, swirling red eyes took in every exquisite inch of her body sprawled on midnight, black satin. He seized hold of her long limbs and yanked her closer, her groin flush against his erection. He rubbed her moisture against his shaft, coating it in her fragrant juices.

He leaned his body down over her and took her lips in another passionate kiss. With one hand he positioned himself at her entrance, holding up his weight with the other. With one powerful stroke, he buried himself inside her. Her scream of pain at the shredding of her innocence mingled with his guttural outcry of intense pleasure. His inner beast howled with approval at the scent of her virgin blood. He was the first to have her, there had been no one else before him.

He waited, submerged deep in her tight heat, until the tenseness of her body faded away. He pulled back and thrust forward again, over and over, leisurely, until the sound of her whimpers turned into moans of pleasure. His tempo increased. His body aflame with the intensity of his passion. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, and her hips rose to meet his every plunge.

When she reached her peak, she lifted her body almost completely off the satin sheets, screaming with ecstasy. He gripped her hips, bashing her down upon him in a hard, frantic rhythm. His own back arched and his eyes closed tightly. The flames built to an inferno inside of him, until his own release caused him to let loose a primal cry.

They collapsed together onto the bed, arms wrapped around each other. Deep gasps came from them both as they struggled to catch their breaths. At that instant, the man had a moment of pure clarity of vision. He knew himself and what he wanted at last. This woman, clinging to him so tightly, was his whole world, the only thing in his life that truly mattered and he would never let her go. Not for anyone and not for his clan. He would fight to keep her right by his side, for as long as they both lived. Even if he had to do battle with his own younger brother.

His beast calmed at his decision and he felt peace inside himself. He kissed her gently, putting all of his love into the gesture. She smiled up at him, returning his affection.

After taking a moment to stroke her flushed cheek, he pulled away from her and rose up off the bed. He righted his clothes and approached the body on the floor. While he sealed the dead ninja into a scroll for transport, she busied herself getting dressed. Once they were both ready, all evidence of their presence erased, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him. Then, in a puff of smoke, petals, and crow feathers, they disappeared from the dingy backroom of that seedy bar on the edge of Sound.

To begin their new life, together.


	2. Chapter 2

This story is dedicated to all the readers that encouraged me to continue with _Flames That Burn_. So, here it is, the lead up to that night in a bar on the edge of Sound.

Please remember that I don't own any part of Naruto, anime or manga. I just enjoy borrowing the characters and putting my own spin on their world.

This story is from Itachi Uchiha's point of view. It is written to reflect my own ideas of his character's thoughts, feelings, and actions, and not necessarily that of 'canon'.

There will be mature content, so please take this as a warning.

As always, I love to hear all of your opinions. Please favorite, follow, and review if you are inspired to. Thank you for reading.

Flames That Burn: The Before

Six months earlier…

Sunlight streamed through the uncovered window, its earliest rays angled perfectly to fall on the striking features of his face. Strokes of golden hues moved along the beautiful perfection of his brow, his high cheekbones, and his gracefully parted lips.

His eyelids tightened momentarily, a vain effort to keep out the light and continue resting in unconsciousness. A few more flickers of movement, then, midnight orbs fluttered open and focused on his world. Training forced him into instant awareness of his surroundings, his defenses went up without thought, and was followed by a mental inventory of his day's obligations.

He sat up in his bed, stretching his arms above his head and releasing the tension in his back muscles. With a quick yawn and rub of his face, he let his hands fall into his lap and indulged in a slouch of comfort. He turned his face towards the source of light beginning to bath the space with its warmth.

There were curtains, heavy, navy blue ones, that could have been closed to block the sun, however, he preferred the natural, gentle awakening that came with the morning light instead of the harsh startle of an alarm. One truth he lived by; one held tightly to the things that brought peace into such a dark world, tranquility inside of turbulence. His sanity depended on holding on to the things that gave him serenity, and they were few in number, therefore, precious.

One of those 'precious' things was fast approaching, intent on entering through open window. His older cousin was more than a best friend, he was a heart's brother, and, there was never any doubt that the feeling was mutual. He watched silently while the shinobi crawled through the opening and shot him a grin.

"Shisui," he said in a quiet, calm voice, no sign of the dryness in his throat could be found in his smooth, deep tone.

"Hello, beautiful!" Itachi smiled at the familiar greeting. Shisui loved to tease him about his looks, often saying they were too feminine. It also served to enrage Itachi's father, the clan leader, something fierce. The proud, serious man couldn't bear the possibility that his heir might not seek the company of women. It was not true, Itachi did enjoy females, but, both younger men liked to irritate the head of the family. It was a harmless way to rebel against the suffocating rules regarding clan honor and pride.

The two men were close, close enough that some of their behaviors with one another raised eyebrows and caused doubt, however, they were never intimate with each other. They shared only a bond of deep understanding.

"Is there a reason you are interrupting my much-needed rest?" He tried to give his cousin a believable glare, but, Shisui just laughed it off and threw himself down across the foot of the bed.

"A little bird told me that one of the targets from your last assignment got a little, uh," Shisui paused to wag his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner, " _frisky_."

This time the glare that Itachi gave the other man was real. "You really shouldn't listen to everything Genma tells you Shisui."

The older shinobi chuckled lightly and rolled on his side to face Itachi. "I actually came here baring gifts, of a sort."

Itachi raised one sculpted brow in interest while remaining silent.

Knowing that was the only sign he was going to get, Shisui continued, "Well, your birthday is coming up soon, and, since you will be in serious danger of becoming an old maid…"

"I'm only turning twenty-five, and I will never be an ' _old maid_ '," he droned out with a hint of impatience in his tone.

Shisui held up his in fake surrender, "Anyhow, I have set up your birthday present. It will be here in a couple of weeks, and, if I do say so myself, it is a totally unique, completely unbeatable, gift." He paused for effect, "A reading by the fortune-teller, Wise Blood."

He waited for a response, an expectant look on his face, but Itachi just blinked back at him in disbelief. "You got me a reading,…by some charlatan?"

Shisui shook his head back and forth, waving his hands in the air as if to bat away Itachi's misconceptions. "No, you don't understand. This lady is the real deal. It's all due to her kekkei genkai. Supposedly, the only power it gives her is to 'see the strings of fate'."

Itachi scoffed at the idea. "You know I don't believe in that kind of nonsense."

The elder cousin flipped his body to rest on his hands and knees, straddling the legs of the younger. Shisui caught Itachi's gaze, "Think of it as…a diversion."

"A diversion?" Itachi was still skeptical.

Shisui stood up on his knees in order to give an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe it is best described as a challenge."

"A challenge?" Ah, there's the interest.

"Yes, a challenge. You're reaching shinobi middle age now, Itachi. What better way to face your darkest fear?"

"And what would you, or this woods witch, know about _my_ darkest fear?"

Shisui's smirk grew wider and he began crawling back up Itachi's body, until his face was just inches away. "It's every shinobi's fear,…the future." Itachi suck in a small breath, so Shisui pushed him a little more, "Well beautiful? Are you up for this challenge?"

The words blew softly over Itachi's lips, but he was not distracted from Shisui's real purpose. He had certainly been manipulated into a corner and to save face, he would accept this challenge.

"Let me know the time and place, and, I will be there."

Shisui's smirk grew into a real smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but, the slamming open of Itachi's door and the choking gasp of fury, announced the arrival of the Uchiha Clan leader, Itachi's father.

An emotionless mask quickly covered the elder man's rage. After a second to compose himself, he barked out orders instead of insults, "Shisui, you are late for your morning patrol duty. Itachi, your mother would like to have tea with you, since you were not at dinner last night."

Shisui slowly crawled off of Itachi and stood at the foot of the bed. He took his time stretching and yawning, before giving his clan leader a bow and climbing out the open window. He paused just before leaping away to look over his shoulder at Itachi, watching him from the bed. "See you later, beautiful" and he was gone before the sound of the answering chuckle could reach him.

Then, Itachi was alone with his father. Knowing a lecture was sure to come, Itachi wasted no time getting out of bed and throwing a nearby robe on. He made to hurry around his father and exit the room, but, he didn't quite make it.

"If you don't curb your, and your cousin's, disrespectful behaviors, I swear I'll…"

"You'll what, Father?" Itachi interrupted coldly. When his father had no immediate reply, Itachi calmly stated, "If there is nothing else, I don't want to keep Mother waiting." Without a backwards glance, he left the room and disappeared from view.

His father shook with rage, staring at the floor and muttering under his breath, before stomping off in the direction of his study.

Itachi made his way to the tearoom where his mother waited patiently. He leaned down, planting a light kiss on her cheek, along with a quiet greeting. His mother smiled up at him in response.

She waited while Itachi seated himself across the low table, before speaking. "Really son, must you antagonize your father so?" Any real rebuke in her question was softened by her calm, teasing tone. "You know he will only be harder on you in the end."

"Don't worry mother. I can handle Father," he reassured her gently. "Besides, I have something more amusing to tell you about." His mother raised one eyebrow to show her interest as she sipped her tea from a delicate cup. The gesture was one that Itachi used often. "Shisui came by this morning to give me a birthday present. Apparently, he has procured me a reading from a clairvoyant."

His mother froze briefly, her cup paused on its way to her lips. Slowly, she lowered the porcelain to the table's surface, her eyes sharp with concern. "Did he say who?"

"Yes, someone that goes by the name of Wise Blood."

She tensed at the name, her mouth tightening for a quick moment. "Itachi," she began, worry bleeding into her normally calm voice, "Maybe that is not a good idea."

Itachi looked up at her, surprised at the sudden tension in her tone. "Surely you are not worried over the ramblings of a wood witch, Mother?" His amusement at her concern was written on his handsome face.

"That woman is no common fortune teller, Son. Her words are known to always come true."

The Uchiha heir waved off her warning. He couldn't believe his mother placed any stock in the ramblings of psychics. "Don't fret, Mother. This is all just an amusement, arranged by Shisui, to unsettle me. It won't work."

" _Always_ , Itachi."

He nodded and gave his mother a small, reassuring smile. He took a sip of his tea, not saying another word, but, Itachi couldn't stop the tendrils of doubt that had begun to slither their way into his mind, causing a feeling of unease to settle there.

* * *

The next several weeks passed by, much like the ones before. A blur of missions and training, nothing of note happened and Itachi had successfully put his odd 'birthday present' out of his mind.

Having nothing pressing to see to, Itachi was having a rare day off, so, he found himself walking the streets of his village at a leisurely pace, heading to meet with his brother and cousin for lunch.

He took his time, stopping often to gaze into shop windows and greeting other villagers as he passed them.

Before long, Itachi found himself outside the favorite local ramen shop. He held aside the curtain covering the entrance and entered, blinking his eyes twice to adjust to the dimness of the interior. He spotted his brother, Sasuke, seated at the bar with his pink-haired teammate to his left. Shisui was also there, actively flirting with the kunoichi and ignoring the glares from his baby cousin.

Itachi couldn't quite make out what Shisui was saying to her, but the older shinobi's intentions were clear from the way he was lightly running his fingers down the curve of her spine.

He did, however, catch her softly spoken response. With a smile and sickly, sweet tone, she asked Shisui if he ever wanted to throw a kunai with that hand again. Itachi had to fight the chuckle when his best friend pulled back the roaming hand quickly at her threat. Sasuke, however, felt no need to hold back and laughed loudly at the older shinobi's expense.

Itachi greeted the two other Uchihas before turning to his brother's kunoichi teammate, "Haruno-san, it had been quite a while. How have you been?"

Sakura Haruno turned on her stool at the sound of his voice, fixing her brilliant, green gaze on his face. Many people found her bright, rose-colored hair to be her most striking feature, but, for Itachi, her most astonishing beauty was, undoubtable, her unusual, expressive eyes.

"I am very well, Uchiha-san. Thank you for asking. How are you?"

Her voice had a soothing, musical quality as she spoke to him, bowing slightly in a gesture of respect. It was very pleasant, but Itachi knew her voice could be a lot shriller when she was tearing into her rambunctious teammates for their bad behavior.

"I have also been very well, Haruno-san. Things seem to be quite peaceful at the moment."

Sakura nodded in agreement. Setting down her chopsticks next to the empty bowl in front of her, she turned to address Sasuke, "Well, I need to get going. Thank you for lunch, Sasuke. I will see you later." She stood, bowing first to Itachi and then to Sasuke, ignoring Shisui, who was leaning on leaning, elbow on the counter and cupping his face in his hand as his eyes roamed over her curves.

Sasuke reached out to grab her arm, stopping her exit. "Don't forget, Kakashi wanted us all to meet tonight for some nighttime training."

Sakura shook her head, "I can't tonight. I have plans."

"What plans?" Sasuke demanded to know, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. His protectiveness of his female teammate was well-known and only eclipsed by the other members of their team. Kakashi, especially.

" _Private_ plans, Sasuke," she growled, but when his brother's mouth turned down further with his displeasure, she sighed, and her features softened. "Don't worry. I will see you at training tomorrow morning."

Sasuke's face was still hard with displeasure, but, he did release her arm so she could leave. She flashed him a warm smile and then made her way toward the exit.

"Goodbye, sweetheart!" Shisui called out just as Sakura reached the curtain, earning him a hard glare thrown over the kunoichi's shoulder. He chuckled at her reaction, and commented to his two cousins, "Now that is one gorgeous kunoichi, well worth the danger to pursue, eh, gentlemen?"

Sasuke didn't respond, just turning back to his ramen and mumbling under his breath about which bones Sakura would break if Shisui tried anything. Itachi sat down on the stool that had been vacated and chose to say nothing.

After Itachi placed his order, the three Uchihas fell into a relaxed conversation about missions, clan business, and training. Sasuke was obviously still distracted, his worry about Sakura souring his mood, until he could no longer hold in his frustration, "Where do you think she was going that she wouldn't tell me, her teammate, what she was up to? I mean, I know she doesn't have a mission, so why would she be so secretive?"

Shisui, who was never one to pass up a chance to get under Sasuke's skin, was quick to pipe up, "Maybe she is going on a date. A hot date, with some hard-bodied, lusty shinobi." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, a lecherous smirk on his face.

Sasuke whipped around, his face red with rage and his voice raised in anger, "Sakura is _not_ like you, Shisui. _She_ is respectable and decent." His loud outburst caused many of the other customers to turn and stare.

"Sasuke," Itachi admonished his little brother with a stern tone, "control yourself. You too, Shisui. You both are causing a scene." His peaceful outing was quickly deteriorating into a stressful one. Itachi, his lunch finished, stood up and placed the money for his bill on the wooden counter.

"Oh, wait a minute," Shisui said while reaching into a pocket and fishing out a folded scrape of paper, "Here, Beautiful. Your birthday present."

Itachi took the paper from Shisui's hand. The only thing written on the paper was a time and address.

Shisui ignored the sudden, displeased pinch of Itachi's mouth. "Be there, tonight, at this address. Unless…" His best friend's eyes began to sparkle with amusement, "Unless, you are too frightened to find out what the future holds?"

Itachi let out an uncharacteristic snort, "I fear nothing."

Shisui's face broke into a wide grin, "We will see."

His patience with his friend's teasing at an end, Itachi turned without another word and left the ramen shop. Tucking the slip of paper into his pocket, he disappeared in the throngs of people walking along the streets of Konoha, leaving behind his brother and cousin to continue their petty bickering that had started up the moment he was out of their view.


	3. Chapter 3

Flames that Burn

 **Five months before the mission**

It was a quarter past ten when Itachi left the comfort of his home and ventured out into night, draped in a black cloak to hide his identity, and in search of a 'witch'.

The absurdity was not lost on him.

Leave it to his cousin to create a mystical experience that rivals the most cliche of fairytales and have Itachi as the dark hero.

Though he huffed in displeasure as he hurried through the darkened streets, deep down, Itachi acknowledged that the true 'gift' in Shisui's present was the temporary relief of the boredom that had taken hold. The same old, mediocre missions. The same arguments made at the last clan meeting, again. The world had become one long, grey cycle that never changed.

But, Tonight was different. The unpredictable unknown was Shisui's true gift to Itachi.

His heart, weakly beating in rhythm with the dullness of his routine, woke up and drummed with excitement as Itachi arrived at his destination.

It was a plain-looking, two-story building with faded cream paint and dark brown shutters. There was no light coming from the grimy windows. The whole place just screamed _abandoned_.

Itachi pulled the crumpled paper Shisui had given him from his pocket. With a quick glance, he verified that the address was correct. With a flare of crimson, Sharingan eyes scanned over the building, taking note of the soft glimmer of a barrier. A smirk pulled up one side of Itachi's mouth.

 _'This must be the place.'_

The black cloak flowed around him like a shadow, licking around his ankles as he made his way silently to the front door. He reached for the knob gingerly, weary as any elite ninja. Once the long fingers wrapped around the metal with conviction, the scrap of paper in the other hand glowed brightly before bursting into flames. It didn't burn him, however, there was only ash left of the parchment.

Itachi opened the door slowly, his body tense with caution. Only a long dark hall stretched out in front of him. Using his Sharingan to look for dangers, he eased his body through the portal and closed it firmly behind him. He felt the outer barrier shiver and take hold. A glow at the end of the hall flickered in existence and a rhythmic beat filled the tight space around him.

Tremors from many drums tickled over his sensitive limbs and settled to pounding inside his chest. The beat vibrated in his ears, muting out other sounds. The wash of sensation disoriented Itachi and he leaned against the wall for a moment to right himself. A few deep breaths later and he was in control.

He started down the dark hallway, pursuing the source of the faint light. The deep drumbeats echoed his silent footsteps, mocking his attempt at stealth. Itachi clenched his teeth in irritation and quickened his pace. The drumming just increased in tempo to match.

As Itachi got closer to the light, he noticed its hue was shifting from a soft, baby blue to a bright green the color of spring leaves, and finally, to deep purple, the color of dusk in summertime. The changes in color created a kind of motion that danced to the throbbing music.

A sweet, musky scent filled the air. Itachi took a few swift inhales, analyzing the fragrance for danger. It was unfamiliar and had a calming influence on the mind, but, didn't appear to be dangerous. He decided to continue further, into the thickening fog of incense.

The hallway opened into a large room. The ceiling rose high above, taking up the entire upper floor. The source of the dancing lights painted in luminescent jutsu with an expert hand created a dome of protection. The inner barrier covering the room bathed the hundreds of writhing figures dancing together across the wide-open space in its pulsing, mystical light.

All of the dancers, both male and female, were skimpily dressed in outfits in varying shades of white. Their hair was also powdered white. Faces were painted with splashes of silver mimicking the form of faux masks.

Itachi let a low chuckle escape his lips. Only Shisui would think to set up a meeting with a well-known mystic in an underground, fetish nightclub.

He reached out and grabbed the nearest white-clad figure. In a sharp voice, he inquired to the location of a woman called Wise Blood and was pointed in the direction of a low-lying platform along a far wall.

Itachi released writhing, powdered figure and slapped his hands together with vigor, an outward gesture of his distain. He marched directly into the mob and they parted in his wake, clearing the path to the base of the steps into the platform.

As he approached the raised space, Itachi noticed it was enclosed in a shimmering curtain that greatly resembled the protective barrier that encased the whole club. The material's dancing patterns of color obscured the interior.

The moment his foot touched the bottom step, two dancers broke from the crowd and pulled the cloth aside, opening the way in. The elite shinobi paused, his eyes flashing as they assessed the situation, before slowly continuing up the steps.

Itachi had to duck under the edge of the curtain due to his tall, lanky build. Images of Shisui rolling in laughter at the ridiculous position the clan heir found himself in made his teeth grind together despite his famed control. By the time he stood up straight facing the only other occupant of the enclosed platform, his face was once again the blank mask of a near-perfect shinobi.

With his mother's earlier warning echoing in his head, Itachi chose to bow with respect to the woman lounging on cushions.

"Excuse the interruption, my lady," his even tone was the very essence of forced politeness, "I believe you were expecting me."

The woman's gaze had been focused out toward the dancing mass of people throughout the Uchiha's entrance and stayed there during his bow. She ignored his false words of decorum. Itachi used the absence of any acknowledgement to observe the strange female.

She was laid back on a bed of brightly colored pillows, all made from different, elaborately-embroidered fabrics. Her legs stretched out in front of her, bent at the knees. One arm pressed down into a pillow, holding her body's weight in an upright position. The other hand was bringing a long, wooden cigarette holder up to soft, pouty lips.

Itachi could only see her profile, as she kept her face turned away from him and in the direction of the dancers. His sharp gaze followed her own out into the crowd and immediately, he noticed the curtain was transparent from the inside, affording an unobscured view of the entirety of the club's interior. The music of the drums, which had almost been overpowering in volume before, became muted to the background to allow ease in conversation.

A long, sensual exhale drew his attention back to the woman he had come to this strange place to see. She still did not look at him, but, she waved the lite end of her cigarette holder towards another pile of cushions along the opposite side of the dais.

The smoke hung thickly in the air until Itachi sent it swirling and dancing in the soft, ever-changing lighting as he moved quickly to take a seat. The sooner he allowed this farce to begin, the sooner he would be home, lying in bed and thinking of a proper _'thank you'_ for Shisui's gift of the ridiculous. He perched on his knees and the tips of his toes in a formal position, facing the woods witch directly.

The seer, Wise Blood, was dressed in the concealing layers of traditional garb. All of the pieces were made from the finest cloth, elaborately and tastefully embroidered and dyed various shades of red. All the many colors of blood were represented, from the brightness of freshly spilt to the dark, almost-black of a dried pool. It hid her figure from his view and could have easily concealed weapons of many kinds. Even her hair was covered by a heavy veil. All that was open to Itachi's appraisal was the sight of delicate, feminine hands and a wistful profile.

Again, his mother's image, cloudy and indistinct, flashed in his mind's eye. A fuzzy, warm picture taken through a young child's eyes and imperfect memory.

Itachi shook his head to clear away the moment of confusion. The possibility of a genjutsu was dangerously real, so he quickly made the sign to dispel illusion.

Everything remained the same.

A soft chuckle announced that the seer's attention had finally shifted away from the crowd and was focused on Itachi for the first time. She had turned and was seated, facing the Uchiha heir directly. The amazing similarity between the mysterious clairvoyant's features and the Uchiha Matriarch's face from youth, during the earliest years of his childhood, was uncanny and unsettling.

A flame of anger flickered to life in his chest at the witch's obstinance. It flared up swiftly inside him, causing the stone-faced mask of apathy on his handsome features to ripple with intense emotion before smoothing back into place. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. The coy smell of the incense burned in his nostrils, dulling his senses.

When his lids slid back open again, his expression was controlled and when he spoke, his tone was calm but firm, "What kind of jutsu gives you the ability to wear another's face?"

If his cold, direct inquiry unsettled the seer at all, it didn't show in her relaxed demeanor. Her eyes simply trailed over his still form from top to bottom and back up until their gazes met. A satisfied curve turned up one side of her lush mouth.

"No offence was intended, Uchiha-sama." The twinkling, musical sound of her voice was as familiar to him as his own. Apparently, whatever magic the woman was using didn't just replicate a person's appearance. "I just wanted to make you more comfortable. My darling, Shisui, said you would be a little…" she paused, chuckling lightly, before continuing with an amused tenor, " _serious._ "

Itachi would never let himself be distracted by teasing, his cousin had taught him that lesson long ago. "I will be less serious when you answer the question."

Her gaze grew distant for a moment and her expression softened with fond remembrance. "I can only appear as people that have made deals with fate." The answer was vague, but truthful.

"What kind of _deals_ do you mean, witch?" The hazy edge to his senses allowed the flame of anger to come out in the harsh bite of his tone. It should have worried the elite shinobi more that his emotions so easily bubbled to the surface.

The pounding rhythm of the music, the hypnotic sway of the dancing bodies, draped and painted white to better reflect the shifting colors of the protective jutsu around them, and the heavy, lazy mood brought on by the swirling, scented smoke, all worked together to force Itachi into a relaxed state.

The seer's firm response seemed to float to him from a distant place, "That is a secret between myself and your mother." She smiled warmly at Itachi to soften the sting of her refusal to answer. "Besides, this is your present, is it not?" She turned away from him and brought the slim wooden holder to her lips. Her eyes looked out towards an empty stage on the opposite side of the cavernous room. Pulling deeply of the fragrant herbs, she held it in for a short while before releasing it back out into the air.

"I am ready. Speak your fortunes, woman." Cocky arrogance laced his flippant demand and the sound of it caused the woman to laugh out loud. The Uchiha Matriarch's features blurred away, and a new, fresh young face took its place. Itachi was secretly relieved. "Tell me what my future holds." This time the demand held a small, reluctant sliver of genuine curiosity.

Her youthful face spread wide with a sly, secretive grin, "Oh, I don't tell fortunes, Young Heir." She leaned forward, extending the wooden handle of what was now a sleek pipe towards Itachi. "I am just here to give you a peek at the world underneath the mundane. A glimpse of your string of fate."

Itachi stared hard at the pipe extended in his direction before hesitantly reaching out to grasp it. The wood morphed into a gnarled branch, a small flame burned on one end. His fingertips traced the grain of the wood and his eyes flared wide when ancient runes, engraved long ago, glowed with power.

The seer laughed softly at his wonder. "Look, Uchiha-sama, it is the ribbon of your life."

His gaze flew to her face and there, floating in air between them, was a deep red ribbon. It rippled with a life of its own, through the enclosed space and out over the heads of the dancing mob below.

Itachi studied his 'string of fate' very carefully, determined to uncover the truth of this illusion. He quickly noticed a flaw. "What are those stiches?"

The woods witch gently reached out to allow the ribbon to flow through her fingers. A wistful smile on his mother's face was beaming down onto the careful needlework. "That is not a secret for you, young man. Just know that a mother's love changed the path of your fate and leave it at that."

Irritation flared in his mind, Itachi was not used to being told no. Sulking in a great imitation of his younger brother, he followed the length of ribbon again. Near the other side of club, he noticed that it was entangled with another string. He narrowed his eyes at the knot in the distance. "What of this knot?" His finger pointed across towards the disturbance in his fate.

"That is what you are here to see."

The words were whispered softly into Itachi's ear, causing a shiver to rush down his spine. They were a challenge, he was certain. Follow the other ribbon to its owner and he was acknowledging the mysticism of fated lives.

Refuse the challenge and he admitted a certain, apprehension with exploring his future, or facing the tricks of a wood witch seer. One with the audacity to wear his mother's face.

The decision took only moments in his mind. Itachi got to his feet in a swift, fluid movement. Handing the branch back to the woman, he bowed with care to show respect and left the enclosed dais. He trailed the ribbon's path, carefully making his way through the writhing bodies of the dancers until he stood below the entangled knot. The music came to an abrupt halt in time with his arrival at that spot.

The crowd's dancing stopped, and all turned their focus in Itachi's direction. He glanced down his body and then around his vicinity, looking for what had drawn their attention. He was standing at the base of a darkened stage but there were no people on it.

The flickering, fairy lights of the barrier soften, throwing a shadow over the crowd. Behind Itachi, a bright radiance illuminated the stage. His eyes left the mob of people and darted to the raised area. He turned his body sideways to keep the others to his flank and not to his back.

A light lyric played on multiple instruments, flowing gently in the air. The crowd began to sway back and forth to its gentle rhythm.

The silhouette of a woman emerged from the light, swaying her hips to the music. Her delicate arms were reached out over her head, causing her back to arch and her breasts to thrust forward.

It was a beautiful, sensual image that the Sharingan recorded with perfect clarity.

The music changed slightly and the light behind her softened. She buried her hands in her hair before running them delicately down the sides of her body. Now with the glare of the spotlight gone, she was easily visible in soft, pink glow from the barrier.

She was practically naked, clothed only in lengths of sheer, painted silk hanging in front and in back of her. The pieces were attached over her hip bones by dainty chains that just served to draw attention to her movements. Her chest was completely bare, but strangely not.

All of her exposed skin was artfully painted by a skilled hand. The rendering of a tree covered one leg and stretched all along her body, branching out in places, and ending in the powdered locks of her hair. Across her chest, hard wood met the soft greens of leaves and the pale pinks of flowers. This design extended along one arm and up her neck to trace along a delicate cheekbone.

Elegant, beautiful and sexual, she was the embodiment of the Goddess of Spring.

The goddess was joined on the stage by three more dancers, all male and similarly painted to reflect the other seasons, but, Itachi paid them little mind. His attention was focused on Spring.

She was…familiar to him. No doubt that she was a kunoichi. Her graceful, controlled movements and the taunt, sleek fitness to her frame gave her away. Her face was elegantly obscured by the artistic design painted there, however, as she spun and turned in her dance, he caught her profile. His heart skipped, and he searched his inner memory frantically to make the connection.

Maybe, if he could get a glimpse of her eyes. Those could not be masked by the stroke of a paintbrush. They would be real.

He watched her intently from the very edge of the stage. He ignored the sudden push of the other clubgoers as they pressed closer for a better view. They would not be able to force him from his place at the front.

Despite his desire to catch her gaze, Itachi found his own wavering to trail down the lines of her body. The flat plain of her stomach and the rising mounds of her breasts pulled at his attention the most. His eyes were following this path when two male arms wrapped around her waist.

The tomoes in his eyes flared and twirled with irritation at the interruption. His muscles tighten with anticipation of action, but Itachi held himself still to observe.

Spring was wrapped in the strong arms of Winter, who was also shinobi from his lithe build. She struggled fiercely at first against the hold, however, her strength seemed to fail her. She lay limp in Winter's arms at last, arched backwards over one firm limb. It was a helpless pose of complete surrender.

Itachi hardened at the sight.

Winter laid her gently on the floor. The tempo of the music changed again as he began to rain kisses down the side of face. He carefully turned her head so the audience and Itachi could see her delicate features and her parted lips. The couple was close to the edge of the stage, a mere foot from the Uchiha heir.

When Winter's trail of kisses crossed over her collarbone and headed toward the slopes of her breasts, Itachi lost his hold on himself for a moment, but it was enough.

The second the Uchiha's dark, killing intent leaked out, Winter's head snapped up and the closed lids of the Goddess of Spring sprang open in alarm.

Her eyes were the deepest green, like the leaves of springtime. Itachi was so close to her, the small intake of breath as she gasped in dismay tickled his face.

Haruno Sakura, goddess of Spring indeed.

Time froze for a moment and the two just stared into each other's face. Then Itachi's features darkened with his inner feelings of rage, jealousy, and, above all, possessiveness. It coated him like a shadow, for a moment, turning him into the embodiment of a dark prince.

Winter was not trapped in the spell, however, and quickly pulled the goddess up to her feet. He led the stunned kunoichi off the stage with an arm around her waist and a quick glance over his shoulder at the Uchiha. His face showed no emotion, but he did quicken their pace when he saw the dark figure jump up onto the stage in pursuit. After dragging them down several darkened hallways, he pulled them to a halt in the shadows. He scanned for any sign of movement from the direction they had come. The shinobi knew better than to believe they had managed to lose the Uchiha prodigy. He hoped he had at least bought them some time.

"I am sorry we were spotted, Ugly. It was a reasonable assumption to believe we would not run into any of our compatriots in this club. If I had known, I would not have requested your assistance." His blank features twisted into an expression of regret.

The pink-haired kunoichi turned to her ex-ROOT teammate, smacking him lightly in the chest in admonishment. "Don't worry about it, Sai. I am always happy to help with your art exhibitions." She opened her mouth to say more, but a heavy presence stalked closer to the pair. There was no escaping this confrontation.

With a soft sigh, Sakura rubbed her hands up and down Sai's tense arms. She couldn't escape the Uchiha's ire, but she could save her friend from it.

"It's okay, Sai. Why don't you check the guy's paint? I will be in there for a touch-up before the next showtime." She smiled at the artist's hesitation to leave her alone and encouraged him along with a firm shove on his back. With a quick glance between her and the dark figure, Sai nodded to Sakura and disappeared into the darkness.

Itachi watched her face as the other ninja walked away. All of his senses were heightened, like a predator on the hunt. His eyes took in every detail of her flesh, the rise and fall of chest with each breath, the slight movement of her lips, the rhythm of her pulse beating at her throat. He inhaled her scent, mixed with traces of sweat and acrylic paint fumes. His keen sense of smell detected the sharp tang of fear and even a wisp of arousal. A low growl escaped his throat.

The sound drew her gaze to him. Fury and apprehension sparkled in her verdant orbs, making them shine from within. Her lips puckered with irritation and her delicate, tiny hands made to perch on her rounded, bare hips. Next to his tall, long-limbed frame, she was tiny, but her lifeforce was strong and vibrant, making her appearance feel larger.

She was glorious in her anger and the beast inside him wanted her.

Itachi bared his teeth a little as he stepped closer to her. He glared into the answers. She squirmed under his scrutiny, her eyes flitting away to focus on the wall over his shoulder.

"What can I do for you, Uchiha- _sama_?" Her voice was tight with ire and worry. "As you can see, I am kind of _busy_ and …"

"Haruno Sakura," his low, firm tone cut her off, causing her to freeze like a prey animal sensing danger, "why is a woman of your _distinguished_ position putting herself on display in such a vulgar fashion?"

Her jaw fell open slightly in shock before Sakura recovered and she closed her mouth with a sharp clank of teeth.

"I will _display_ myself in whatever way I deem fit, _Uchiha._ "

Itachi made a grumbling sound of displeasure and stepped right up to her. Her bare, taunt nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt with each rapid breath she took. A flush darkened her cheeks under the skillful brushstrokes of paint. She looked up into his face, her eyes widen with alarm at what she saw there.

"You are the Hokage's apprentice and a prime candidate for marriage into the Uchiha clan. That makes what you display, "He paused to trail his gaze all over her exposed flesh again very slowly before returning to her face, "very much _my_ business."

Sakura exploded like an angry kitten, hissing and shrieking in her outrage. "My shisou has not given her final decision on that matter. I am accountable to only myself and my Hokage, Uchiha." She emphasized her point by stabbing a finger into the middle of his chest. The action forced him back a few inches. In her mind, this discussion was over, and turned swiftly to stroll off down the hall.

Itachi was not about to let her escape so easily. He decided on a change in strategy to throw her off her game.

"What would Sasuke say about you fornicating with another teammate, for an audience no less?" Itachi mused out loud, a menacing smirk spread across his lips.

Sakura did an abrupt about face and stalked right up to him. She pressed their bodies tightly together in order to get as close to his face as possible. Her barely contained rage displayed by clenched teeth and a light spray of spittle that flecked out with each word she spoke, "Sasuke has no claim on me, and neither does your clan, _Uchiha_."

In a blink, he had grabbed her. One of his strong hands gripped her hip firmly and the other was cupping her jaw. Itachi pulled her impossibly tight up against his body, using the hold on her hip to press her core to his own hard desire. He leaned down to speak into her ear, his voice soft and thick, "If you have needs, Sakura," he paused to inhale deeply and then exhale the hot breath along the sensitive skin of her neck. When he began to speak again, his tone was husky with promise, "I can provide you a more appropriate, Uchiha lover."

"An Uchiha as a lover?" her breathless voice had the purr of amusement, "if I wanted one of those, I would just…" Sakura's speech trailed off into another chuckle. She turned her cheek towards him, rubbing their skin together in a nuzzling gesture. Stretching upwards on the tips of her toes so she could whisper in his ear, "Who do you think normally plays the role of Winter? It isn't Sai."

It didn't take Itachi long to put the pieces together. His choice of this place. His friendship with the traveling fortune-teller who frequented this club. The possible importance to Itachi and his clan of the things happening here.

Shisui.

Images flashed through Itachi's inner eye. His cousin dancing that erotic dance with Sakura in Sai's stead. His best friend kissing down her throat for the pleasure of strangers.

Jealousy burned hot in his chest. The beast inside him took control and grabbed both her arms in a punishing hold. He slammed her against the wall, his eyes flashed with madness. Sakura shrank away from the sight.

"You gave yourself to my cousin?" The question was cold and terse. The answer could potentially be dangerous.

Sakura placed both of her hands against his chest and, enhancing her strength with chakra, pushed Itachi away, breaking his iron grip on her, "I am no whore for your family, Itachi! Look elsewhere for your pleasures."

She turned her back to him then, and with strong, sure steps walked away following her teammate's earlier path.

Itachi waited until she was almost lost in the shadows before quietly declaring, "No Kunoichi, you are not for my _family_ , but what you are for me has yet to be determined."

Sakura huffed at his arrogance, "We'll see."

"That we will, Sakura."

His hungry promise followed her down the hall and haunted her thoughts for some time after that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the long time off that I have taken from writing. I'm back to it now, just had to settle some life stuff. My promise to my readers is that I will do better. This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but it felt right to end it where I did. Please let me know what you think.

Flames that Burn

Four months before the mission

The first couple of weeks after the events at the club went by quickly for Itachi. He had his normally busy schedule to make the time pass. The dull grind of repetition was an excellent way to keep the mind occupied until his head finally laid down upon his pillow at night.

The dreams weren't important.

When sleep eluded him, Itachi just slipped out of an open window into the night. His new favorite prey tended to move around more in the darkness. This tantalizing new game of stalking such a worthy foe, filled him with excitement.

This was how the Uchiha heir found himself, perched in a tree in the dead of night, with his prey in sight.

 _'As I expected, he lured his mark back to this location'_ Itachi thought smugly, sure in his knowledge of the prey's patterns.

The soft murmur of voices drifted through the thick foliage and Itachi used the sound to cover for the noise of sliding two shuriken out of a pouch. He concealed himself perfectly as two figures emerged in the clearing below.

The smaller figure's steps were hesitant, the tone of her voice stuttered with confusion and indecision.

In response, the male figure's stride was smooth and sure, his voice soothing and deep. His hand firmly on the female's lower back, the target led his nervous companion to the moonlit clearing. The two passed right beneath the very branch that Itachi was perched on.

Familiar, cheesy, pickup lines flowed with ease out of the man' mouth as he attempted to ease the female's misgivings. Itachi wondered how such a genius could be so appallingly lacking in imagination and creativity.

Itachi watched intently as the target turned the female around and up against a nearby tree. His eyes narrowed in on the woman's face and bit back a curse at her identity. No doubt that kunoichi was the Hyuga prodigy's teammate and not-so-secret love interest.

New anger added fuel to Itachi's lust for his prey's blood. His body tensed, and he rubbed the two sharpened blades in his fingers together softly to sooth his excitement. If the prey followed his usual patterns, the moment to strike should come anytime now.

The target captured the female's lips, swallowing her weak protests and replacing them with soft moans. Her eyes were glossy and unfocused with intoxication, a combo of sake and desire. The man was impatient and ripped her shirt down the front, exposing her small breasts to view. He wasted no time in taking a small, brown nipple into his mouth. The kunoichi cried out, lost to the pleasure, and didn't even notice as her pants and underwear were jerked down to her knees.

The man released her breast from his mouth and roughly picked her up, folding her legs against her chest as he pinned her harder against the tree. The position opened her core to his advances while limiting her movements.

Itachi leaned forward and readied his shuriken. Any second now, the perfect opportunity would present itself. He watched as the man fumbled with the ties of his pants in his haste to claim the woman. The Uchiha knew his target wouldn't pull them down far, not out in the open like this. No shinobi worth his salt would make himself vulnerable in the darkness of the forest by dropping his trousers to his ankles. Only a few inches would suffice.

True to form, the man tugged down his pants to pull out his erection, exposing the top of his buttocks in the moonlight.

 _'I've got you now.'_ Itachi immediately released the two shuriken into the air and they flew true to their target.

The man screamed his surprise, jumping back abruptly from his companion. Without his support, she fell to the ground and landed, dazed and confused, onto her naked rear. Her eyes flew to the enraged man twisted around in his attempt to eye the blades currently embedded deep into his rear.

" _Damn it, Itachi!_ That fucking hurts!" Shisui yelled out into the surrounding forest. He grabbed the shuriken in his left buttock and yanked it free with another cry of pain. "You are _such_ an asshole! If you are mad about something, just tell me. Don't do this anymore!" The injured Uchiha gestured to the other blade still deep in his ass cheek.

The kunoichi on the ground seemed to collect her wits. She got to her feet quickly, pulling her pants up as she rose. Clutching the tore edges of her shirt together, she fled the clearing without a word.

Shisui paid no attention to her, focusing his fury on the tree branches where Itachi was perched.

He leapt from his hiding place landing on the grass a few yards from Shisui. Itachi waited silently while his cousin removed the last shuriken before commenting, "Interesting choice of woman tonight, Hyuga Neji's lover."

Shisui gave him a smug look, "I thought it would be amusing to rattle the arrogant bastard a little." He took a few steps to be closer to Itachi, "Do you think it will work?"

"Maybe to start a clan feud."

The elder Uchiha threw his head back and let out a laugh, "At least _that_ would give me something to do. Really dear cousin, what brings you out hunting this lovely night? What hypothetical wrong are you righting?"

Itachi waited, silent, until Shisui huffed in amusement and began to set his disheveled britches to rights, not wanting to leave vulnerable parts out while in the irate Uchiha heir's presence.

"I guess that is a question for _Old Man Winter_ , cousin."

Shisui's head shot up and he met Itachi's hard gaze. A knowing smirk slowly spread across his face, "Would this have to do with the lovely _Goddess of Spring_?"

"You are aware that she is on the list," Itachi stated flatly. It was not a question. The turbulence within him hidden from all but the eyes of someone who knew the Uchiha heir well.

Shisui was one of those people. The smirk grew wider.

"It would be a real shame if something were to happen to bump her off that offensive list," Shisui purred, watching closely for any reaction from Itachi. When he did not get what he was after, the elder pushed a little more. "Maybe the counsel will be satisfied as long as she breeds with _some_ high-level Uchiha. Which means, dear cousin, technically I am in the running for the goddess myself."

"So, you try to fuck her friend against a tree? To impress her?" Itachi let a trace of disgust and disbelief lace his cutting tone.

However, Shisui just shrugged off the accusations, "Can't blame a man for seeking some entertainment while waiting for what he _really_ wants, right Itachi?"

His eyes flared red with anger and Itachi couldn't stop himself from taking a threatening step in his best friend's direction. "Are you saying that you want to pursue Haruno Sakura?"

"Why not?" Shisui said with a warm, low chuckle, his face turned up towards the moon. The soft glow highlighted his face as the sly smile fell into a more serious turn. His own scarlet, twirling orbs focused intently on Itachi, "Unless you are making a claim?"

After a few moments of just the song of crickets, Shisui stretched his lean body and yawned loudly. He rubbed a hand gingerly over his wounded buttocks, "Well, if you are done with your wargames, I think I am going to head over to the hospital to get these _injures_ seen about. It's a good thing that Spring has the late shift at Konoha General."

A flash of a smile and blur of hand signs later, Shisui was gone with his signature move.

Alone in the clearing, Itachi let a curse blast from his lips. Several deep breaths later and his hands unclenched. His emotions were wrestled back under his iron-clad control.

Nothing else could be gained from being in the forest late at night, so Itachi turned and flashed away in the direction of home.

* * *

The Uchiha main house was quiet and dark when he arrived there. Careful of the protection jutsu surrounding the house and to not make any noise, Itachi made his way to the kitchen area.

A couple of covered plates awaited him there. Itachi mentally sent his mother a feeling of gratitude and love. Grabbing one of the dishes, he made his way out onto the back porch that overlooked the private gardens.

At ease in this secluded place, Itachi wearily leaned against his favorite, wooden post and let his legs drape over the edge of the decking. His eyes took in the moonlit beauty of the grounds, occasionally bringing a morsel to his mouth. The food was delicious as always.

The peace and solitude were not to last however, broken by the light tread of his younger brother in the kitchen. It wasn't long before Sasuke padded out into the night air and settled on the porch near Itachi.

The younger Uchiha was damp from a bath, a towel draped over his broad shoulders. A dinner plate balanced in one hand and a crumpled piece of parchment in the other. Sasuke was reading the paper intently with his upper lip curled in disgust. When he was done, he waved the offending correspondence towards his elder brother, "Have you read this shit? What in the hell do they mean by ' _best breeding outcomes_ ' and ' _low chance of genetic dilution_ '? Then, they expect me to choose from their damn list…it's bullshit!"

Sasuke threw the scroll down onto the wooden planks with an angry huff and focused all of his frustration onto his dinner, attacking each bite like it was an enemy. After clearing half of his plate, he looked over to Itachi. Curious of his brother's opinion and impatient with the silence, Sasuke couldn't hold back his question, "Who are you going to choose? I know I will just pick Sakura and be done with it, but who is your lucky lady going to be?"

Itachi sighed in disappointment. Was his little brother so naïve to think it would be that easy?

The Uchiha heir laid his utensils across his plate and gracefully got to his feet. With a few quick steps, he was lording his height over his seated younger sibling. Itachi looked down at Sasuke and made his claim.

"You may want to reconsider you choice, little brother. You have forgotten that it is I that chooses first from that list." Itachi turned, having made his point clear to astounded, younger Uchiha. He paused at the door, why not kill two birds with one stone? "Oh, and Sasuke, our dear cousin has also shown interest in your teammate. I believe he may be at the hospital now with some made-up injury in an attempt to woo her right now…Goodnight, little brother."

Itachi snapped the door shut on the flare of chakra from his enraged sibling. He chuckled in delight when he felt Sasuke shoot away in the direction of the hospital.

The mental picture of Shisui trying to convince a furious Sasuke that the puncture wounds on his ass were put there by Itachi rather than a perverted scheme to get Sakura's hands there amused the heir as he readied himself for sleep. The light, easy feeling settled in his chest ensured that slumber would be swiftly achieved.

For the first time in quite a long while, Itachi fell asleep with a smile upon his face, however, the temporary peace didn't last long.

The dream returned.

Red ribbons knotted around his form, completely restricting any movement. The laugh of the wood witch as Itachi's mother tore his fate in half, tossing one side on the length into the darkness. Gentle fingers painstakingly sewing fine stiches. Pounding drums deafened him, steadily raising in volume, as a dark figure slowly undid the knot tying his fate to future happiness.

As he had done every night while trapped in this dream, Itachi struggled against his bindings. Fear, frustration, and anger built inside of him until it burst forth from his body as black flames, burning the ribbon that was his fate to ash.

Itachi woke violently, sitting upright on his bed. His chest heaving and his fingers clutched tightly in the fabric of his bedcovers, He fought off the haze of the nightmarish vision. Helpless against ravings of his unsettled mind, Itachi cursed into the darkness.


End file.
